Pardon Me For Being Rude, It Was Not Me It Was My Food That Said, “I Want A Divorce”
I’m sorry about that. I don’t know what’s come over me. But I do know what’s come into me: that five alarm chili entrée that was preceded by jalapeño poppers, a bloomin’ onion, crab rangoons, and seven mozzarella sticks. And don’t forget we washed it all down with a quart of Häagen-Dazs. Regardless, please disregard what I just said, honey. You’ll have to pardon me for being rude, it was not me it was my food that said, “I want a divorce.”
I get it, it’s a strange thing for a man to say to his intelligent, strong, and wonderfully loving wife of two years. And what’s stranger still is that words blurted from my mouth were caused by the meal! I can’t believe it either, though you should trust me when I tell you that’s the exact reason why I uttered such a nasty and completely unintentional phrase. There must be something about eating a combination three disparate restaurants’ signature dishes and a separate dessert that coalesced into some sort of toxic soup, causing the sufferer to say things they do not want or mean. Mystery solved!
You do bring up a valid argument, Vicki: if we both ate the same meal, why haven’t you said anything unintentional yet? Well then, I would argue that…perhaps you already have? Earlier tonight when we were snuggled up on the La-Z-Boy watching Blood Father, you said, “I can’t believe we’re watching this! Mel Gibson is a known racist and anti-Semite.” Surely what you uttered was unintentionally said, no? You had to have believed that we were, in fact, watching Blood Father — it would’ve been impossible to think otherwise! Though, I do agree, the second sentence is true, but damn if the man didn’t bring his A-game with that film.
Getting sidetracked? What are you talking about? I just reasoned — with clear, undeniable logic — that what I said was the fault of the wacky amalgamation of food we ate — just like the thing you said about Blood Father. In fact, I’d argue you telling me that I’m, “sidestepping the issue” and me saying “I want a divorce” are merely two sides of the same coin. They’re both just similar instances of the devilish dishes twisting our arms in a way that forced us to speak things that are contrary to our own deep, burning desires that have been boiling silently within the wells of our souls for the past year and a half. Duh!
Darling! What are you doing?! Don’t pack your things! You’re going to drive all the way over to Carol’s house at this time of night? You’ll wake the twins! I don’t want you to go! I want to stay being married! I love you! Oh, look! I’m doing it again! That darn dinner won’t stop making me speak untruths!
Well, at least now you know.